


Right Back Around

by entomolog



Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: 80's Music, Alternate Timelines, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:20:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27805978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entomolog/pseuds/entomolog
Summary: What if Benny went with Beth to Moscow and also it were the 80's idk. Beth reunites with Townes.
Relationships: Beth Harmon & Benny Watts, Beth Harmon/D. L. Townes
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Right Back Around

"It's always too cold in these damn hotel rooms”, she thought. Beth had been at the board for hours, studying games, running drills. Wondering if playing the e4 opening was the right call. Any way she ran it, she was never more than a few moves from check, and the cold was shortening her patience. She got up and paced the floor, eyeballing the expensive vodka supplied by the hotel staff. “Practically sabotage, leaving me alone with shit that nice”, she thought. She did a lap around the room, looking at the curtains, the rows of endless concrete block buildings out the window, anywhere but the board, before throwing herself down in a huff onto the couch. There was a knock at the door. Beth opened the door to Benny leaning into the door frame, just back from the bar.

“Howdy there, champ, you figure out how you’re gonna win on Friday?”, he slurred very close to her face while attempting a wink. 

“Trying to. He’s gonna try some variation of the Tartakower Defense, I can feel it.” 

“You’ve seen this a million times before, Beth, just play it open and you’ll be alright”, Benny drawled as he entered the room and poured himself into a chair next to the liquor cart. 

“You seem like you’ve had more than enough of that”, Beth said, flicking her eyes toward the vodka. Benny opened the cap with one fluid motion poured himself a shot from a comically high angle.

“You sound like you haven’t had enough”, he shot back. 

“I’m trying to keep my head clear and not shit the bed like in Paris, you know that. Anyway, what do you want? I thought you were gonna go hustle people at the bar at speed chess or something.” 

“Already did plenty of that while you were up here on sabbatical. You know Beth, it’d be a real shame not to explore the night life our Soviet siblings have to offer. There’s at least three night clubs within walking distance of the hotel, pretty crazy ones from what I hear. They’re a little looser about the rules at the ones for foreigners.” 

She gently took the vodka out of Benny’s hand and put it back down on the cart, pouring herself a seltzer with lemon. 

“I’ve had enough crazy to last me a while, Benny, I need to focus.”   
Beth sat down and started bouncing her leg anxiously. He crossed over and sat down next to her, setting his head on her shoulder. 

“You’re fried, Harmon. You need a break. Come dance with me, it’ll be fun.” 

“I’m not drinking.” 

“No one said you had to, the music’s good there, that’s all”. 

Beth stopped bouncing her leg and looked over at Benny, his hair she liked so much disheveled in a very charming way. She kissed him on the forehead. 

“Okay. But ONE hour, and then I’m going to bed.” 

“Aye aye captain”, Benny said, holding an index finger up to Beth’s face to indicate he understood. 

“Alright, I’ll go get ready, wait here and try not to down that whole bottle while I’m gone”, she said, crossing to the bedroom and closing the door behind her. 

Benny smiled warmly, fiddling with a pawn on the board she abandoned.   
———————————  
They left the hotel, each of them dressed to kill. Benny hadn’t changed much aside from putting on a handful of rings and a patterned silk shirt Cleo had left behind at his apartment once, but Beth looked commanding and lovely: bright pink cashmere sweater falling elegantly off one shoulder, leather skirt, tights, high white boots, the collar of her leather coat turned up against the drizzle that had come on. 

They entered a dark, smoke-filled club with high ceilings and low tables to one side, neon light flashing across a dance floor filled with people dancing to Blondie. Benny, ever the flirt, made eye contact with a pretty girl across the room and motioned for her to come dance with them. Beth always felt awkward dancing unless she was by herself, but the girl’s kind demeanor and Benny’s drunken robotic movements made her feel less anxious. She eased into the flow of the music soon enough, swaying between the girl and Benny as he made them laugh by kicking wildly, miming a Russian cossack dance to the Clash song blaring through the room. 

There she saw him: dark curly hair coiffed beautifully, dancing, chatting to a man and a woman, each of them looking at him enraptured, laughing and flirting.   
“Townes?”, she said almost to herself. She’d know the way he stood, the way he held a cigarette, anywhere. Just then, he turned toward her, a shock of recognition flashing across his face.   
He furrowed his brow and excused himself to his companions and strode across the room towards her. Benny, sensing the tension of the moment, made an “I’m gonna go” motion and moved with the girl towards the tables. 

“Harmon! I can’t believe it! You uh, you look well.” He paused and his face softened into something between confusion and joy. “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this”, he joked over the thump of the music.   
“Jesus, it’s like I’m 15 fucking years old all over again” she thought, feeling as though everyone could see her cheeks burning with giddy embarrassment. Beth had always felt confident in her ability to spar conversationally and on the board, but Townes took her out at the knees, every single time. She paused and stammered, smiling before blurting out: “I guess they just let anybody in here, huh?” They avoided looking at each other before eventually settling into a sturdy hug.   
“Do you want to go outside? The music’s great but I can’t hear myself think”, Townes said over the noise. They elbowed their way through the sea of sweaty bodies before exiting onto the side alley. Townes gestured to a low pallet and sat down, Beth following next to him.   
“So why are you here, actually?”, she asked.   
“The Herald Ledger was eager to send someone out to report on our hometown girl who made good in Moscow, and I may or may not have jockeyed for the assignment”, he said, placing a cigarette between his teeth while he lit Beth’s.   
“I wish I’d known, I-I wish you’d called or-“   
“I did, actually. A month or two after Las Vegas, though I don’t think you ever picked up.” They were both quiet for a long time.   
“I tried, Harmon. I figured if you wanted me around, you’d come around eventually. If not, well....” he sighed and ashed his cigarette.   
“I just, I’d like to apologize. I had a habit of not letting people in. Still working on that, really. I always liked you, Townes. Did I tell you I tried to call you once?” Beth turned her eyes towards his, his expression affable but sad.   
“I’m a mean drunk and it’s a wonder anyone loves me. I figured if I just won enough at chess it wouldn’t matter that I lose all the time at understanding people, letting them know I care about them. Townes, I like you.....more than I can ever tell you. You’re a hell of a player and kinder to people than I’ll ever be. I’m a rookie at love, what else can I say. I’m sorry”. Beth fidgeted with her cigarette so aggressively it looked as though she might snap it in half, and Townes touched the back of her hand to stop it. He leaned in imperceptibly and held her gaze.

“No one can be good at everything, Beth. And everything takes practice, even love. But I want the chance to practice with you, if you’ll have me”.   
For the first time all night, Beth didn’t look away. She smiled and leaned into Townes for a hug, inhaling the smell of warm cologne and smoke that made her heart race. He pulled back a little, cradling her face in one hand, talking low through a hint of a grin:   
“You’re really something, you know that?”   
Townes placed a steady hand on her lower back and pulled her into a kiss that made her feel woozy, drunker on his touch than she’d ever been in her life. 

—————————————  
She was relieved to wake up next to people in her bed and know how they’d gotten there. Benny in all his insistence, such an urgency about his sex. Constant, slow-burn, beautiful Townes. She tried not to shrink from this feeling of being held, like she’d done her whole life. Here, being known didn’t mean being open to attack or analysis. Being adored just for being herself didn’t compute, but she didn’t run or sabotage herself. She got up, put on the outfit she’d chosen for the final match, kissing both of them on the cheek before taking the elevator down to greet her fate. 

———————-  
It was over a lot faster than anyone anticipated. She rose to every challenge Borgov threw at her. His pawn threatened, she retreated her bishop, lying in wait. Their rooks circled each other. It was a dance, one she got out of step on when he took her knight with a pawn, but she broke through: his king was pinned. She looked the ceiling, imagining the board, but ultimately knew the right move. Queen to f4. It was done.   
The three men of her life: a mentor, a lover, a rival, all of them stood in reverence of her as the room erupted in cheers and camera flashes. Borgov was right: it was her game, and she took it.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to base Beth's final game on Bobby Fischer vs. Boris Spassky game 6 in which Spassky allegedly did give him a standing ovation, whether or not this was successful is up for debate because I'm still pretty new to chess, but ya know, world building. As for the 80's setting, I just thought it'd be neat and gave me a little more room to play around with details, and the Chess musical was from '83 so again, why not tangentially tie in a related thing. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
